Invincible, but Unloved
by Kawaiicani-chan
Summary: People observe the colors of a day only at its beginnings and ends, but to me it's quite clear that a day merges through a multitude of shades and intonations, with each passing moment. A single hour can consist of thousands of different colors. Waxy greens, to cloud-spat blues. Murky darknesses, in my line of work. And I make it a point to notice all of them.


I don't believe that people understand how I see things.

I mean I guess what I see is kind of confusing. It's almost as if I asked you to understand a criminals thoughts. What comes through my mind is colors, and I suppose that's where I should start.

The first thing I notice is the colors.

Then the people.

That's usually how I try to see things.

The key word being try.

 *****HERE'S A SMALL FACT*****

 **We all die at some point.**

I am in all truthfulness attempting to be cheerful about this whole topic, though most people find themselves hindered in believing me, no matter my protestations. Please trust me. I most definitely can be cheerful. I can be amiable. Agreeable. Affable. And that's only the A's. Just don't ask me to lie. Because in all perspectives I am just brutally honest.

 *****REACTION TO THE FACT FROM ABOVE*****

 **Does this worry you?**

 **I urge you-don't be afraid.**

 **I am nothing if not sincere.**

-Of course, an introduction. A beginning. Where are my manners?

I would love to introduce myself properly, but where's all the fun in that? You can trust that you will know me soon enough, depending on a diverse range of variables. I can just say that you will be in my arms and that there will not be one moment as grand as that.

But, the question is, what color will everything be when I find you. What will the sky be saying? Will the earth be trembling, for a release of their own, has left?

Personally, I like a blood covered sky. It signals that blackness will come soon. People say that both colors suit me, but I have to say I prefer red. I do however, enjoy every spectrum I see-the whole spectrum. The trillions of flavors out there. Just waiting for humans to notice their moments'. Though I really do enjoy to watch the sky. The colors all seeping together, forming one vast expanse that makes Mother Earth jealous. When I watch this glorious beauty I tend to let my thoughts flow in sinc with the setting sun, it helps, it truly does, to let yourself get lost in the moment. It helps lift the weight of your shoulders. It's always helped me relax.

 *****A SMALL THEORY*****

 **People observe the colors of a day only at its beginnings and ends, but to me it's quite clear that a day merges through a multitude of shades and intonations, with each passing moment. A single hour can consist of thousands of different colors. Waxy greens, to cloud-spat blues. Murky darknesses, in my line of work. And I make it a point to notice all of them.**

As I've been alluding to, my one saving grace is a distraction. All though it keeps me sane, while helping me cope. It is keeping me from performing my job from perfection. However, I continue my color process. In all points I'm miserable. The trouble is, who could ever replace me? Who could step in while I take a break in your stock-standard resort-style vacation destination, whether it be tropical or of the ski trip variety? The answer, of course, is nobody, which has made me make a conscious, deliberate decision-to make distraction. Needless to say, I vacation in colors. Losing myself in the abyss of their glory, and taking on that I will never get a full needless break.

Still, it's possible that you may be asking, why I need vacation? What do I need distraction from in the first place?

Which brings me to my next point.

It's the humans.

Some roll around in their lives through freedom, not bothering to stop. Not a glance to be spared. I hate them for that, but that's not what turns me around.

It's the ones who live in misery, and injustice that due them no part. I can't bare to look at them. Although, on many occasions I fail at this part. And I deliberately seek out the colors to keep my mind off them, but even now and then I witness the ones who are broken. The ones who have punctured hearts. The ones who have beaten lungs. The ones who continue to find the good in those who have broken them. And I hate them too. For hurting themselves, and attempting to find the good in those despicable humans.

It's just a small story really, a sad one though, and at times I thought of bringing those around to justice. But, that would only cause more hunger, in the eyes of the wolves.

And this is why I truly despise people who were once like me.

* * *

The first time I saw her she was in red. It was like a silk curtain, draped upon her small shoulder's, and when she looked up all I could see was the blackness that was dwelling there. But around her was a white. A blinding white.

And it felt as though the whole globe was dressed in snow. Like it was a cloth that it had pulled on, the way you might pull on a sweater. You can clearly see the footmarks from where she had run from. It started before the base of the hill, and ran all the way towards the town. The snow had fallen to her shins, and she was beginning to become one with the world. But she kept going, continued to go forth amoungst the cold, cold world.

The wind whipped around her stiff hair that was once the sun, but drew to the end somewhere in the long road of life.

Bringing her shaw forwards, perhaps she thought it would bring her warmth but when she attempted to reposition it, it got lost in the wind. She turned around reaching for it with frosted fingertips, but it was too late. She wondered if she let go then maybe she too would get lost in this swirling whirlwind as well.

As for me, I had already made the most elementary of mistakes. I can't explain to you the severity of my self-disappointmen. Originally, I'd done everything right, but it seemed I have a soft spot for some humans.

Gliding through the snow, I follow her as she continues to make her track towards the town. For whatever unknown reason she was still covered in crimson, though the snow had begun to cover it up. Her bare shoulders, pink from the icy snow, and her nose red.

Oh how it seemed like that beautiful color was hurting her. Though I take the souls I wish not to see the pain of it.

And in this, blinding, white snow she knelt down, her quaking breaths were uneven. Pressing her hands to her mouth, she sighs.

I continued to follow her waiting watching to see what would happen. I practically inhaled it, but still, I wavered. Yet my interest overcame my wellbeing and I will resign myself to stay as long as my schedule allows.

And I watched as she trudged on, in the snow until she reached town.

Feeling reassured she walks a bit through the town until she reaches a long dark corner.

Minutes later when she was safely lodged in the crevice of an alley way, she brings her knees up to her chest hoping to bring warmth back to her body.

Twenty-three minutes later, I began to feel the spreading of coldness through my body. It was the beginning of death.

Her mouth jittered.

Her cold arms were folded.

Tears were frozen to her face.

And she leaned her cold body into mine until I felt the small soul in my arms.

What came next was so unexpected even I was suprised. Two men were there in the alleyway, and they all had guns pulled out. Resting her head against the wall, I felt as if it wasn't quite time, so I stood by watching the standoff that lay in front of me.

 *****OTHER SMALL FACTS*****

 **Sometimes I arrive too early.**

 **I rush,**

 **and some people cling longer to life than expected.**

 **So I try to just make sure I'm always right.**

"You can't do this to us," one rasped.

It was my signature color black, all was covered in black and it seemed as if the red from earlier was fading away. Maybe it had to do with the shading, but how could I ever know.

One gestured with the gun, "That's too bad." A loud noise rang out.

The crimson seemed to have come back, of course it was my favorite color, I always see it anyways.

I walk towards the soul that had already begun to make it's way towards me. Inhaling the very essence of his soul, the man's body lays slumped against a garbage can.

The one who shot the man glanced around making sure nobody was watching before his eye caught sight of the tiny girl. He cautiously stepped over towards her not seeing her moving he figured she was dead.

Tiny little gasps and warm breath came towards him. His rough hands reached out to touch the girl's face before picking her up.

I've always wondered what would happen if you mixed red, white, and black. I guess now, I get to know.

* * *

 **A/N**

Hey guys, I just want you to know that I am working on my other stories it's just I was in the shower and a really great new story came to mind so I had to write it down real fast before I forgot it.

Hope you guys enjoy and please review. :)


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